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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277694">you better know what you're fighting for</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla'>raven_aorla</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Death's Champions [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020), The Sandman (Comics)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Attempted Seduction, Brief body horror, Brief mention of wartime atrocities, Consent Issues, Crossover, Drama, Drama &amp; Romance, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, It's just Despair doing her thing, Lack of Sandman Knowledge is OK, Loyalty, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, references to human trafficking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:27:25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26277694</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_aorla/pseuds/raven_aorla</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>First, Desire made the two men lust for each other, which over a period of confusing years (for the men, not Desire) blossomed into an emotionally invested love affair. Despair tested their faith in God and humanity as often as possible. Now the scene was set. To win the game, at least one of the men had to be persuaded to either want to be unfaithful, or to genuinely want to die permanently. Even if only for a moment. The game would end when Death took one or both of the warriors for good. They didn't ask her permission, but such fascinating toys couldn't be left to go to waste.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>[Can be read on its own.]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Death's Champions [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1909243</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you better know what you're fighting for</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One might wonder what Desire was doing in the middle of a massacre.  If one were possessed of extraordinary naivete, that was. Pillage and rape simply didn’t happen without Desire in the mix. </p><p>“You’re being extraordinarily shitty, even for you,” Death said in a tired voice, the ankh around her neck glinting against her black dress. </p><p>Desire didn’t give her the satisfaction of acting startled at her sudden manifestation, though she had to have been all around, and continued walking through the streets without ever being soiled by them. “My function isn’t always as <i>pretty</i> as I am, which is something which could also be said about <i>you</i>.”</p><p>“You could make them want so many other things.” Death could be so strangely sentimental sometimes. She was the only one of them who spent one day per century as a mortal, in order to know the bittersweetness of her role from the other side, and over the eons it had softened her from the stern, implacable personification she had once been. While Desire had the sense to respect Death’s power, they couldn’t fathom that incremental increase in compassion, and they disliked it when it led to a patronizing lecture like this.</p><p>They yawned for effect. “Been there, done that. It was getting <i>boring</i>. And I don’t <i>manufacture</i> wanting, sister, just as our middle brother doesn’t cause war out of thin air. I judiciously choose to fan sparks already inside <i>all</i> of them.”</p><p>Death sighed. “You don’t get to know them like I do.”</p><p>“I’ll <i>follow</i> you for a few hours, then, and see if you can show me something <i>new</i>.” </p><p>Death didn’t experience linear time the way any other being did. Desire understood that Death’s meetings were not really happening one at a time, and not only here, that she was active on a million planets throughout the universe. She was letting Desire into a fraction, a mere glimpse, of what she was doing. Some met Death with fear or denial, others with relief. Nothing unexpected.</p><p>Not until Death approached a pair of men whose bodies were lying almost on top of each other in a ditch. Their faces and clothing marked them as being on opposite sides of this petty conflict. One had slashed at the other’s throat, who had then managed to run his sword through the first in retaliation before bleeding out. Death looked distressed as she approached their souls, who were busy trying to strangle each other but unable to get a grip around each other’s incorporeal throats.</p><p>“I thought you gave each of them a personal touch, not in <i>batches</i>,” Desire commented, but Death silenced them with a look that reminded them of a vital truth. She wasn’t only Death to mortals. Despite them being called Endless, she would one day collect every one of her own siblings, too. </p><p>Thus Desire watched the bizarre proceedings without comment. The Muslim and Christian argued with Death and each other about each other’s respective levels of viciousness vs. virtuousness, about who should be going to their versions of paradise, about how unjust this was. The dead can all understand each other, so whatever linguistic barriers there were between them seconds ago had become moot.</p><p>Death silenced them with a look, too, though this was gentler. The silence hung in the air, the two humans and two Endless suspended in a bubble away from the chaos outside. At length, she said, “Yusuf. Nicolo. I have to apologize. I know one of you is meant to be one of my champions, who create checks and balances regarding who needs to die and who needs to live. I’m not the one who picks, though, and because you died at each other’s hand at exactly the same moment, I have no idea which one of you it is.”</p><p>This set off an even more frenzied set of arguments, with much pointing. </p><p>“Stop. There’s only one fair way to handle this that doesn’t compromise my responsibilities. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.” Death took each man’s hand and joined them together, stunning them into silence.</p><p>Moments later, both bodies gasped back into life. And immediately started fighting again.</p><p>“Give me strength,” Death muttered, this aspect of her just standing there and waiting for the inevitable. </p><p>“As you are obviously feeling rather <i>stressed</i>, dear sister, I will take my leave,” Desire said, thoughts simmering. This had indeed been something new.</p><p>****</p><p>The physical appearance of the middle child of the Endless could vary according to the beholder. During that era, to his family, he looked like a broad-shouldered, good-natured giant of a man with long flame-colored locks and a beard, usually clad in armor and carrying some sort of sword. </p><p>Destruction wasn’t doing any killing himself, as was against the Rules unless to protect his dominion, but he was helping to channel the action into its proper paths. It had been a busy day even for these busy years, and he almost tripped over one of his sisters in the middle of a battle. He took a half-step away from the mortal world while not removing himself from the fray, more like drawing a veil between himself and the chaos in order to address his sibling. “Oh, I’m sorry, my dear. I should have expected you to turn up at some point. I’ve run into Death a few times today, but knew better than to distract her.”</p><p>“I know I am easy to overlook,” Despair sighed. This was not strictly true much of the time, as she always appeared as a squat, flat-faced, grayish woman with oily black hair with no clothing or accoutrements except the sharp hooked ring around her finger that she used to dig and tear into her own flesh.</p><p>“Come now, you know I didn’t mean it like that. Would you like to find a better view of the whole scene?”</p><p>She paused in ripping away at the tender skin of her upper arm. “I suppose.”</p><p>Moments later, they were watching from a higher vantage point, which was the top of a city wall that was on fire and covered in the dead but still reasonably sound in structure. They listened to the screams and clash of weapons. It was not in his nature to feel sad about it, no more than it was for him to bemoan the tides wearing down a shore, but neither did he glory in it. “I don’t think this will be the last war here. This land is sacred to too many people who disagree with each other.”</p><p>“Mm. Thank you for showing me the larger picture, but I need to go work on a smaller scale now. You know I take them one at a time.”</p><p>Suddenly, a figure appeared, dressed in richly dyed purple and crimson cloth without a speck of dirt or blood on them. No observer could have said for sure what gender they were, but they cast two shadows, one sharply defined and one wavering like smoke. The beauty of their face could move the staunchest pragmatist to poetry, and their amber-colored eyes bore their usual hint of wicked amusement. “I’ve been <i>looking</i> for you, sweet twin, and I <i>suspected</i> I would see you too, brother.”</p><p>“What do you want, Desire?” Destruction asked, aware of the inherent irony in his question. </p><p>“I want to play a <i>game</i>,” Desire said, showing a hint of teeth. “It’s been so long, and something <i>juicy</i> has happened. I know <i>you</i> don’t tend to be keen on joining the younger three of us in sport.”</p><p>“And I’m still not. I have to continue monitoring this situation, Desire, you know that. No distractions.” He gave Despair a pat on the shoulder, Desire a cordial nod, and unsheathed his sword. </p><p>Desire held up an elegant hand. “Our elder sister brought two soldiers <i>back to life</i>. Enemies who’d only just slain each other. They are not <i>meant</i> for the sunless lands for the foreseeable future. Isn’t that odd? It lends itself to all sorts of <i>interesting</i> possibilities…”</p><p>He frowned. “I do not meddle in Death’s affairs, and I advise you not to either. What are you even fighting her for?”</p><p>“Not <i>fighting</i>, just <i>playing</i>. Don’t be a killjoy.” They blew him a sardonic kiss.</p><p>****</p><p>The game was only between the twins. First, Desire made the two men lust for each other, which over a period of confusing years (for the men, not Desire) blossomed into an emotionally invested love affair. Despair tested their faith in God and humanity as often as possible. Now the scene was set. To win the game, at least one of the men had to be persuaded to either want to be unfaithful, or to genuinely want to die permanently. Even if only for a moment. The game would end when Death took one or both of the warriors for good. They didn't ask her permission, but such fascinating toys couldn't be left to go to waste. </p><p>Early on, Despair invited Delirium to join in, but Delirium said, “NuH uh, tHEY’re mY faVOritE sisTer’s speCIal PeoPle, I wOn’t Do moRE than mY noRMAL joB.” Then she wrapped herself in a blanket made of singing bandages and creeping pink straw and refused to look at Despair until the connection between their galleries closed again. (Despair had called, not visited. Nobody but Death could visit Delirium’s realm unscathed, not since whatever mysterious catastrophe it was that had twisted her from her former identity as Delight.)</p><p>“We don’t need our <i>addled</i> little sister in on this anyway,” Desire said with a sniff when told. Desire was more tempting than Despair. They were sure they would beat her. </p><p>Despair was more patient than Desire. She was sure she would beat them.</p><p>****</p><p>Sometimes Yusuf - currently going by Josef - saw a naked gray-skinned woman out of the corner of his eye. He assumed it was a wild vision resulting from great distress, irrelevant to the situation and the ache in his heart. Currently-Nicolas once claimed he saw a similar ghostly figure when terrible things happened to a group of children he felt like he should have been able to save, and Josef had gone temporarily missing on top of that.</p><p>Right now, Nicolas’s skull had caved in from a musket ball at close range, and Josef had carried him away to the battlefield to protect his healing body. Assuming he started healing. He hadn’t drawn breath in ten minutes. This incident would end up permanently giving Josef a special hatred of anyone who shot Nicolas in the head. </p><p>“He’ll die, and you’ll be alone,” said a creaky, whispery voice, like a cold wind, and Josef knew without looking that it was the apparition that haunted him during dark times. “How nice it would be to die too. Escape the emptiness and pain forever.”</p><p>His mind flooded with the violence he’d seen today, the anguish of innocents and the cries of fear and sorrow. He felt swept away by thoughts of all the atrocities he’d ever witnessed. The people he could not save. A sister-in-arms drowning again and again under the sea. </p><p>But Nicolas wasn’t cold to the touch yet. He held onto that lifeline. “We died together the first time, and until I have confirmed otherwise beyond any possible doubt, I choose to believe we will do the same the last time,” Josef growled, hunching over the body like a mother wolf protecting her cubs. </p><p>She tore at her own lip with a sharp hooked ring. “Then why are you so close to Despair?”</p><p>“Any moment he isn’t breathing brings me close to despair, but any moment I know he might breathe keeps me closer to hope,” Josef said through gritted teeth. Nicolas had waited a whole half hour for him once, slaughtering anyone who came near in the meantime who wasn't their Andrea. </p><p>One might have thought he’d remember such a strange encounter, but as soon as Nicolas returned to life, Josef completely forgot about it. He could only think of gathering his sun and moon and stars into his arms. There was nothing but trying to soothe the pain of resurrection into a healing body with gentle words and his own sense of hope, renewed yet again. </p><p> ****</p><p>Nicky had been assigned to meet the informant on the basis that out of himself, Yusuf, Andy, and Nile, his appearance would attract the least attention. Or as Nile had put it: “That strip club is crawling with white male patrons, so you’ll blend in the best. Sorry.”</p><p>Andy might have enjoyed it more, but her still-mending broken leg had ended the debate. So Nicky it was. He entered unobtrusively, paid the door fee, and took a seat as far back as possible from the stage to wait. His informant only had so many breaks per shift. This was a legal establishment that came up clean, but one of the non-performing employees supposedly had information about a recurring “patron” who had tempted a few of them away with an offer of easier work and better wages. Said performers had disappeared. This could lead to a breakthrough in tracking down the tenacious sex trafficking ring they’d been after for months. </p><p>“Are you having fun?” Joe asked in Nicky’s earpiece, amused. </p><p>“After fifteen minutes, I find myself impressed by the core strength pole dancing requires,” Nicky murmured back, and quirked his lips at the soft laughter from the other side. </p><p>Half an hour or so in, a man sidled up to him. “The <i>boys</i> dance every Thursday and on alternate Tuesdays.” Perhaps this was the informant. All Nicky knew is that he would be wearing white, and that he’d approach Nicky and strike up a conversation that would include the code phrase within the first few lines. The man was indeed wearing a white suit. Perhaps he was one of the bartenders tasked with getting patrons liquored up and more generously tipping. Nicky had politely turned away a cocktail waitress twice by now. </p><p>Nicky was struck by how much the man looked like a clean-shaven Joe, except that in this lighting his eyes looked oddly amber in shade. Like the resin an ancient insect could be found trapped in - though he’d been disappointed to learn that scientists had not reached the point in real life where dinosaur DNA could be extracted thereby. Look, sometimes he and Joe went on what people of this era called “normal dates”, including movies. </p><p>The man briefly frowned for some reason. Perhaps it had been too long a silence. Nicky needed to focus and reply. “What makes you think I’d prefer that?”</p><p>“You were watching the stage like you were impressed by their flexibility on <i>a purely academic level,</i>” the man said, winking.  </p><p>The code phrase now spoken, Nicky readied himself to move to the next phase. “Do you have something you wish to discuss?”</p><p>“I know somewhere we can be <i>alone</i>,” the informant purred. </p><p>The club had a few rooms designated for private parties. Nicky didn’t really want to sit on the couch, but the informant had languidly draped himself over it and patted the seat next to him. It was in the interest of the mission to play nice to start with, though if this encounter went poorly, Nicky had three hidden weapons on him. Four if you counted a trick he’d recently learned for using a credit card one had snapped in half. (Nile had shown him an online tutorial on how to get out of zip ties, in case he and Joe ever got kidnapped again with such bonds, and he’d fallen down a bit of a ‘rabbit hole’ of related instructional videos.)</p><p>Polite didn’t mean wasting time, though. “You have information for me?”</p><p>Slow, sultry music started playing in the background. The glint in the informant’s eyes turned from fascinating to predatory, and the voice turned to silk and sin. “You were so young when you entered the priesthood, and always so afraid of even admitting to yourself what you really wanted. You’d never had someone else before him, had you? No one else since. Wouldn’t you like to try? At least once? Don't be shy. He isn't hearing anything but static.”</p><p>“How...how do you know about any of that?” Nicky was no mouse, but at the moment he felt like a moth, like all the thoughts he was trying to organize well enough to decide how to get out of this situation kept circling back to whoever this was. His knees felt weak. </p><p>“Shh.” Closer now, smelling of summer peaches, he reached out and stroked Nicky’s left cheek and jaw. “I’ve sent so many fellow humans to try to draw in either of you over the centuries, pretty ones and <i>hungry</i> ones, and I’ve realized I did too good a job entwining your hearts in the first place. Perhaps the only solution is a <i>personal</i> touch. You should feel honored.”</p><p>“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Nicky was dimly aware that he’d switched languages. He couldn’t tell which one. He felt dizzy. The music wasn’t loud, yet it crowded his mind just as much as the softness of the hand on his face.</p><p>And he looked like Joe, yet he didn’t, he looked like some perfect idealized Thought of Joe, one who never disagreed with him, forgot to pack a change of shirts and ended up stretching Nicky’s, snored, took too long in the shower. One who could never leave him, not even by accident. “Don’t you want me, child?” </p><p><i>How old of a creature must you be, to call me a child?</i> Nicky thought. His mouth was too dry for words, but he knew it was no lie on this creature’s part. This was something older than he could conceive of, and if he let himself be touched any more than this, or worse if he allowed the kiss that seemed more and more inviting by the second, he would lose a war he hadn’t known he’d been conscripted into until now. </p><p>The hypnotic music suddenly switched to something faster and brighter, with words that cut clean through the fog.</p><p>
  <i>I’m an angel with a shotgun, fighting ‘til the war’s won, I don’t care if heaven won’t take me back. I’ll throw away my faith, babe, just to keep you safe, don’t you know you’re everything I have? And I want to live, not just survive…</i>
</p><p>The door swung open, and a man burst in who looked young despite having white hair. He was also wearing white, but jeans and a t-shirt instead of a suit. His eyes were hidden behind large sunglasses and a laminated card proclaiming that he worked security here hung around his neck. “My master told me to fetch this one, and tell you that you have overstepped your bounds. He says this game between you and your twin has gone too far and that it is over.”</p><p>“Keep your nose out of my business, you little <i>nightmare</i>,” the other hissed, not letting go of Nicky.</p><p>The one with the sunglasses took a switchblade knife from his pocket. “I could kill him, and Death would show up, and you could explain the situation to her instead. Would you prefer that?” </p><p>Nicky found himself being shoved off the couch, but also being caught before he hit the floor. That shouldn’t have been possible, but he was still feeling dizzy, so maybe his perception was off. His apparent savior kept an arm around his shoulders as he steered them towards an exit at the back of the building, which opened to an alley still damp from the afternoon’s rain. He set Nicky down on an upturned crate leaning against a wall. Nicky noticed that the employee badge called him Nathan Corey. </p><p>“We have a few minutes before anyone comes out for a smoke break,” Corey said. He removed a folded-up piece of paper from one of his jeans pockets and handed it to Nicky. Both sides were covered in text in very small but neat handwriting. “I have <i>an academic interest</i> in my coworkers' habits, thankfully.”</p><p>“Good. Thank you.” Nicky felt simultaneous relief and embarrassment at having been taken in by an imposter earlier. Already, the details of the encounter were fading from his memory.</p><p>“Description and first name of the suspected trafficker, description and names of our performers who got suckered into following him. One of our girls and three of our boys. The boys don’t get as many chances for tips, you know?” Corey took off his sunglasses to wipe them, and kept his eyes tightly shut as he did so. Maybe they were sensitive. “Along with any other details I’ve picked up.”</p><p>“I think I was drugged. I must have been. Even if I didn’t drink anything. A gas in the room?” It felt like a weak explanation, but it was one that didn’t lead to more disturbing possibilities.</p><p>“Go with that. It’ll help you sleep tonight.” Corey stretched lazily. “You should be proud of resisting the most powerful drug in the universe, at least for people like you.”</p><p>“You will be compensated if the intel proves useful,” Nicky said, rather than follow that line of discussion any further. </p><p>“I don’t need money. You could say I am working off some bad karma from a previous life.” He grinned with even white teeth. “Besides, I can’t take anything from someone I helped. Not the shiny new me.”</p><p>Nicky understood what that was like. Joe’s forgiveness for Nicky’s complicity in the First Crusade had come at least a century before Nicky being somewhat at peace with it himself. “Still, there must be some way we can repay you. I speak for the whole group.”</p><p>“So you have consented. If one of you sees me later, I’ll take my payment then,” Corey said, with an ominous chuckle. “Feeling more like yourself now? Run along.”</p><p>****</p><p>Desire didn’t want to meet their interfering brother on his home territory, but Dream wasn’t willing to enter theirs right now and Desire really wanted to be able to poke him in the chest angrily. “What was <i>that</i>? We didn’t invite you to the game!” </p><p><i>“I told you that I was growing tired of you messing with me and mine,”</i> Dream said mildly. He was so fucking mild these days. Sometimes he even smiled, though he had his usual poker face right now. <i>“Death asked me to send these champions special visions after they are called, so they might find each other. That makes them mine as well. Neither she nor I invited you to amuse yourselves with their hearts. I’ve tolerated it while you showed a modicum of restraint, but this level of escalation is unacceptable.”</i></p><p>“Using one of your <i>worst nightmares</i> as a go-between is somehow acceptable? With a cheesy pop song?” </p><p><i>“He had permission to use any harmless means close to hand to shake your prey from your influence, sibling. Questions of taste notwithstanding. As for your other objection...”</i> The stars deep inside Dream’s infinite black pools of eyes glinted. <i>“If you are incapable of seeing the difference between your actions and my sending one of my creations to have a simple conversation with him in the guise of a mortal, it is beyond my ability to make you see. I will speak to Despair and advise her to abandon this pursuit. I suspect she will understand better.” </i></p><p>“I think I liked the <i>old</i> you better,” Desire muttered, and left to find an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting to tease. That was always good for a laugh.</p><p>****</p><p>The night after the team broke up the human trafficking ring and got as many victims as possible to safety - and as many perpetrators as possible to one kind of justice or another - Nicky woke sometime around three. He’d actually been having a simple, fairly neutral dream for once, involving making fruit tarts but having trouble finding tins that were the right size to bake them in. He’d woken because Joe had shuddered awake because of a nightmare of his own, and because Joe had uncurled himself from around him, moved him to flat on his back, turned on the bedside lamp, and was now gazing anxiously at his face.</p><p>“I dreamed of Nathan Corey, according to your description,” Joe explained. None of them had been able to find a trace of him after the dust had settled. In the end they’d concluded he had been on an undercover mission of his own, under an excellent false identity. “You were strapped down like you were in Merrick’s lab and Corey had a hand over your mouth and he was petting your hair and he said: <i>‘He promised payment. I don’t get to do this in the waking world like I used to, and I’m not allowed to touch him directly because he was my mission. The close encounter with Desire has made me...nostalgic, I suppose, and the version of him in your head is accurate to the last detail. I don’t know yet if they’ll grow back in a dream. I hope so. They’re just so lovely.’</i>”</p><p>“Perhaps this is only a more fanciful result of your memories from the lab,” Nicky said, squeezing one of Joe’s hands in both of his. </p><p>Joe winced and continued, “It was worse than that horrible woman. Those sunglasses you mentioned...he wasn’t wearing them, he….he had…he didn’t have eyes. He had mouths with sharp teeth in them. They were chewing on your eyes. You had empty sockets leaking blood and I couldn’t see any sign of healing.”</p><p>Nicky said, with a reassuring smile, “Now you are awake, and I am here. Kiss my eyelids, then, to keep them safe.” He eventually got Joe settled again. In the morning Joe said he’d dreamed, in great detail, of a wonderful library where one could find all the books imagined but never written.</p><p>****</p><p>The first time Yoe received a wound that didn’t heal immediately, it was a laser burn during the War of Martian Independence, fighting on the side of the Democratic Union of Humans on Mars. The first time Niekii received a wound that didn’t heal immediately, it was burst eardrums from the sonic grenade he’d thrown at the melee bots which came to attack his sniper nest after he'd channeled his grief into a killing spree. They were reunited at the field hospital in Tunnel Epsilon less than three hours after regaining mortality. </p><p><i>I never thought I would be so happy to temporarily lose my hearing,</i> Niekii signed to Yoe once he’d made it back to his side. Booker - now going by Typer - had learned French Sign Language during his hundred years of exile and taught it to the others on return, and it had proven useful during stealthy missions. </p><p><i>Let’s do good in quiet ways from now on,</i> Yoe signed back, tears sliding down his face and with a huge smile of relief. <i>The newest recruit is already doing well. Typer, Nile, and Zi Yi will take good care of them. I want to see you grow old.</i></p><p>****</p><p>“What a beautiful accident you’ve been,” Death told them, wrapping each of them in hugs. </p><p>“Why, thank you,” Yusuf said. He looked back at his and Nicolo’s bodies. After all this time, falling over in the shower and hitting the tiled floor had done them in. The retirement home nurse had advised against a pair of what she thought were ninety-year-olds taking showers together, true, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. What a wonderfully mundane, domestic death. </p><p>“What now?” Nicolo asked. </p><p>Death smiled. “Are you worried?”</p><p>“Not if we’ll be together,” Yusuf said. Nicolo nodded in agreement.</p><p>“Two of the Endless tried and failed to drive even the tiniest wedge between you for centuries, so I don’t think anything else will dare.” At their baffled faces, she continued, “Come have tea or a drink or something at my house with me before I send you on. It’s quite the story."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Someone in the comments asked for clarification about the "Corey" subplot, so I'm sharing it here in case anyone else might find it useful. MINOR SANDMAN SPOILERS AHEAD.</p><p> "Nathan Corey" is a fake name I made up for the Corinthian, a very powerful nightmare who once escaped into our world and became a serial killer. He likes eating eyes - he sees through a pair of little toothy mouths - and especially the eyes of older boys/young men. Dream tracked him down and angrily unmade him, then later remade him with essentially the same personality but more responsible and rule-abiding this time. Hence the "bad karma from a past life". The Corinthian 2.0 might be the only one of Dream's creations who could both navigate our world well enough to go undercover and stand up to Desire in a confrontation. Unfortunately, any entity capable of feeling desire is going to get side effects from upsetting Desire themself, so the Corinthian ended up really craving eyes again after helping Nicky. When Nicky offered to pay him somehow, the Corinthian took advantage of Nicky's generosity to treat it as permission to attack him in Joe's dream. His new self wouldn't attack a human in real life without orders, but Joe knows Nicky so well that his imagination can provide a perfect copy. Joe got to have a much nicer dream afterwards as apology/thanks from Dream for being the one to pay the price.</p><p>In other words, even when the Endless ARE on your side, it can get weird and alarming.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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